


Drabble #6: Leather, Boots

by MaidenofIron157



Series: Tumblr Drabble Series [6]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Boot Worship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 03:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14072205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaidenofIron157/pseuds/MaidenofIron157
Summary: "*whispers* for the prompt think; talk to me about jim kirk's love of leather and boot kinks" - herodaisy





	Drabble #6: Leather, Boots

**Author's Note:**

> n-nice

Jim didn’t have a _thing_ for leather, per se.

I mean, _yeah_ , the fabric was slick and smooth, especially when he touched it, rubbed his fingers against it, pressed his cheek to it. And it was dark, especially against his pale skin, how he’d moan when his shoulders were pushed and pushed to the ground. And it smelt positively _divine_ , especially when his nose was shoved tight against it as he whined and _whined_ -

… Well, maybe he _did_ kind of have a thing for leather.

But only when Bones was involved!

Wonderful, wonderful Bones… that kinky bastard.

Admittedly, Jim had been the one to bring it up, but it was sure as hell all Bones’ fault. He should’ve _known_ Jim would’ve become a wanton heap of beautiful blond when he saw him in those _goddamn boots_ …

See, when this whole thing had started, the two of them were _supposed_ to’ve been going to a club. Jim’s choice that week, and he’d dressed in his tightest clothes to convince Bones to accompany him. It had worked, of course (it always worked), but Bones had decided to get back at him by dressing in _his_ tightest clothes, and that was when everything had gone to shit. A long-sleeve shirt Jim was _sure_ was trying to mold into Bones’ body, a pair of jeans that looked like they were cutting off circulation, and those goddamn _fucking_ boots.

Jim hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself before they’d even left the dorm - which, honestly, was kind of a good thing. Jim didn’t think he could’ve handled having to see him _walk_ in them. It was torture just seeing him _stand_.

It was even worse now, though, because Bones had learned how to read Jim like a book. He was also a sadistic piece of shit, because he used those goddamn boots as punishment _and_ as reward, the _bastard_.

Jim isn’t exactly sure just _how_ often he’s cursed Bones and his cleverness in his head since it all started, but it had to be well into the millions by now.

But despite how much he might cry and plead and beg and _grovel_ for Bones and his goddamn leather boots (that he hadn’t even known he’d _owned!_ ), he _fucking loved it_. Sure, he was a hypocrite, but he didn’t care, because nothing could compare to having Bones let him do as he pleased, because he was “good that day”. Because he hadn’t flirted with one-too-many cadets, because he hadn’t picked on Uhura (and gotten a slap to the back in the head for his trouble), because he hadn’t gotten drunk, because he hadn’t gotten into a fight, because he hadn’t gotten drunk _and_ into a fight. There were a lot of ways Jim could be good, but just as many ways he could be _bad_ , and those seemed to happen _far more often_ , when Jim would have to wear a gag and be forced to stare at them for however long Bones deemed fit for him to have learned his lesson. At that point, Jim would usually be red-faced and wet-cheeked, squirming and whining and staring at those goddamn boots.

And yeah, maybe Jim liked the bad days more than the good ones (sometimes), but that was neither here nor there. Bones would (usually) wind up letting him get what he wanted, what he _needed_. The day (usually) ended with Jim on his knees, naked, in front of Bones, hands clasped or tied behind his back as he mouthed at the leather of Bones’ goddamn boots. Kissing, licking, practically drooling and slobbering on them, the smell invading his senses like a cloud of pure heat, pulse pounding in his ears, whimpering as his mouth filled with that taste as he begged, pleaded, _cried_ , for more, for _anything_.

And Bones, he would always give it.

Jim guesses that he may have more of a _Bones_ thing than a _leather_ thing, but… he wasn’t gonna test that.

Not yet.

**Author's Note:**

> wow I use italics a lot don't I


End file.
